


Forever

by levesqueen



Category: Maximum Ride
Genre: Angst, F/M, Frequent typos, it might end happily? Haven’t decided yet, this is just something I wrote when I’m bored so don’t expect frequent updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levesqueen/pseuds/levesqueen
Summary: I just know that she’s dead, he’s there, and you’re here.You’re the last one, Maxi. And I miss you.Forever,Fang.





	1. Chapter 1

Hey. 

I know you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I get it; it’s been too long for it not to be awkward. But just… I don’t know. I don’t even know if you’ll get this, to be honest. I just know that she’s dead, he’s there, and you’re here.

You’re the last one, Maxi. And I miss you. 

Forever,  
Fang.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could— should tell you I'm sorry, but I won't. Because I'm not.”

Hey. 

It's me again. A little birdie (Nudge) told me about your mom. I'm sorry. I could've been there but—

No. I'm not going through this again, Maxi. I'm gonna admit, I never cried over you. Not once. But I did feel this thing in my stomach where I felt like puking every time I thought about how much you and the flock probably hate me now, and I finally realized after six months that the feeling was guilt. 

Anyway. 

I could've been there. To comfort you and shit. But I wasn't. I could— should tell you I'm sorry, but I won't. Because I'm not. If it's any consolation, I plan on coming home for the funeral. Even though it'll probably be awkward as fuck. 

Forever,   
Fang.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the funeral.

Hey Max, 

Well, the funeral was… a shitfest, to say the least. Along with other bodily substances. Again, I won’t apologize for shit. Not for yelling back at you. Not for having no comforting words to say. Not for kissing you senseless in the single-stall chapel at the church. And definitely not for staying the night. 

No, never. 

I’m not here to be sappy. I’ll never hear the end of it from Nudge, who I know for a fact reads these before she gives them to you (that’s right, birdie, I’m on to you). 

Anyway, I’ve got a job interview in half an hour and I’m still in my pajamas. Don’t ask why I didn’t write this sooner (as in more than an hour before Nudge swings by to puck this letter up) because I don’t know. 

Not like I’ve been busy. 

Sentimental shit and whatever,   
Fang


End file.
